


Simarkus Week:Music

by MasterD1mwitt



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Celebrity Crush, Concerts, M/M, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-18
Updated: 2020-02-18
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:28:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22789516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MasterD1mwitt/pseuds/MasterD1mwitt
Summary: AU where Simon came from a small town and was sheltered from any suggestive content, especially including the music of "bad kids". But as an adult he gets his horizons broadened and falls for the epitome of what his parents despised-and for whom seems to take a special interest in him as well.
Relationships: Josh & North (Detroit: Become Human), Josh/North (Detroit: Become Human), Markus & Simon (Detroit: Become Human), Markus/Simon (Detroit: Become Human)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 50





	Simarkus Week:Music

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ceeridwen99](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ceeridwen99/gifts).



> This was inspired by a conversation I had with Ceerdiwen99, so partial credit to them for helping me out! They wrote their own version of this a while ago, so feel free to check it out!
> 
> The song that Markus sings is called "The Fragile" and is by Nine Inch Nails, I definitely recommend checking it out too, especially the live WMA version as it was what first sparked the idea.

Simon had a very average childhood, according to himself. He had parents who loved him and were able to provide for him, grew up living comfortably but not luxuriously in a small town in the Midwest. It wasn't until he was a little older that he realized how closed-minded and monotone such a life was, all the happy white families with white picket fences who went to church every Sunday and baked apple pies...moving to Chicago in his early adulthood was a welcome culture shock for Simon. All of the diverse sounds and cultures now within his reach, all of the different places he could simply walk or take a bus to, he drank it all in, but most of all, it was the people who enthralled him in particular.

Growing up, Simon had been told that rock and metal music were the work of the Devil and maybe had like one or two black friends, but now he was roommates with a woman who listened to all the bands his old neighbors hated and her very much black ("did you know my father was in the Black Panther Party?") boyfriend in a tiny apartment, and he loved every minute of it. Luckily for him, North and Josh -the latter in particular- were very patient with his adjustment, his overcoming of his upbringing. They always invited him to be a part of their activities, which he was grateful for, but sometimes Simon couldn't help but feel like he was being a third wheel, even if he knew he wasn't going with them on dates or anything. Which was why when North approached him with just two tickets to a concert she was looking towards, he was confused.

"Wouldn't you rather go with Josh?" Simon asked, setting down the book he was reading to better focus on the other.

"He has papers to grade," North replied; her boyfriend, in his final years of college, took his job as a teacher's assistant very seriously. "Plus," she added with a sly smile, "I figured you'd be interested in this particular singer."

Simon kept it no secret among his friends that he was gay, which was nice, but it did mean having to put up with North trying to set him up with guys she insisted were perfect for him every few months. In the couple years he'd been out of the closet, she had desperately tried to peg his type, as he seemed utterly clueless as to where to start with men. His music taste was just as directionless, taking in both North and Josh's different ones, but not really forming one of his own. He could appreciate how solid the lyrics of North's bands were, for example, but the industrial sound was sometimes too harsh. Regardless, he wouldn't turn down a free concert, and so he replied, "Sure, what band is it?"

North's grin grew wider at that point, and Simon knew it was a big one. "Dude," she squealed, "I got backstage passes for Jericho! We're gonna meet Markus Manfred!" Simon couldn't help but smile back; he knew how much his friend loved this band, it was one of his favorites of her preference as well. After her moment of fangirling, North explained that she had won the bundle through the radio and that the concert was at the end of the month. “So don’t lose your ticket!” she winked as she slid the slip of paper into Simon’s hand. Slowly he went over the lettering with his thumb, contemplating what, if anything, he would say to the singer when they met.

The night of the concert came sooner than it felt, and Simon would be willing to admit that he felt quite out of place. As probably the only person dressed in a plain button up shirt and jeans, he stood out in a sea of wild hair and jet black jackets, never had he seen so much leather and obscenity concentrated in one field. North herself was dressed to the nines as always, looking like she was more prepared for a fight than a performance. Even though they arrived early for the meet up backstage, there was still a huge crowd they had to push through to reach the stage itself, where North proudly flashed their badges to the guards to gain entrance. Sheepishly Simon smiled at the intimidating figures, as they were escorted to the man of the hour, Markus Manfred himself. 

Immediately Simon realized that North had been right; instantly he had his breath taken by how beautiful the singer was. A melancholy man dressed in all black, Markus had a bright smile and sad, inquisitive eyes. Currently he was listening to two fans gush over his latest album, grinning from ear to ear; he had a smug air to him as if he already knew his brilliance, but still ate up the attention because he doubted if others saw it. Lean muscles were completely relaxed, but Simon wouldn't doubt it that the man could instantly put him in a headlock; for some reason, the thought of Markus overpowering him so easily only made Simon more flustered.

And when he spoke, Markus had the most beautiful voice, soothing to both the ears and the soul. And his laugh, Simon didn't know such a soft chuckle could fill a whole room. A few of the other fans who were backstage were chilling with the rest of the band, but it was clear that everyone present was smitten with the frontman. Legs growing weak, Simon sat himself on one of the couches pressed against the wall near one of the corners, and observed the mingling of everyone from a safe distance. Taking the opportunity to introduce herself, North instantly gravitated towards Markus like the others and began chatting with him about his music. "Your lyrics are so deep" "you're such an amazing artist" yada yada, until the subject of who she came to the concert with came up, and she happily pointed at her sitting companion and said, "Oh, I'm here with my friend!" Shyly Simon smiled and waved, then instantly felt like an idiot when Markus and North turned their attention back to each other. He stood out like a sore thumb.

But Markus did not mind that, not one bit. He was used to seeing fans dressed just as gothic as himself, so it was interesting to see a white bread poster child for middle class suburbia hanging out with such a hardcore crowd. Like a cat attracted to the single quiet person at a party, Markus found his attention gravitating towards Simon, intrigue for the other man nipping at the end of his thoughts. It wasn't that he didn't appreciate the adoration of his fans, he knew it was sincere, but they worshipped him for his work, the man underneath it was negligible. "Having fun?" He casually asked the shy man, sliding next to him on the couch.

Jumping, Simon fumbled with his words as he mumbled, “Y-yeah, I’ve never been to anything like this.” He did his best not to sound like a dolt, as the singer was surely taking pity on him.

"You've never been to a concert?" Markus asked with a raised brow. The way the man's tank top clung to his muscles made it very hard for Simon to think. And his piercings, and his tattoos, oh Lord...

"Not a metal one," the latter clarified, toying with his hands nervously in his lap, "My friend North is more into this kind of music than I am, but I still enjoy listening to it." There was no need to sound like a music snob, Simon thought to himself, to imply that he believed that Markus's livelihood was beneath him. He must have done well, for a gloved hand patted his shoulder heavily, and Markus said with a grin,

"Well, I hope you'll enjoy my performance tonight." Simon could ignore the slight sting from being roughly handled, for his heart was beaming at the physical contact. It had to have been...months at least since he was last touched by another man, he would take anything he could get, including the attention of a man who had women hanging off his arm and every word. "What is your name, by the way?" Markus inquired, and Simon couldn't believe how genuinely interested he sounded.

"Simon," he replied quickly, eagerly. North was right, Simon was already hopelessly enamoured with Markus Manfred after a simple conversation.

"Simon," Markus repeated, as if tasting the word on his tongue. "What kind of music do you usually listen to, Simon?"

"Umm…" Simon trailed off, spitting out the first name that came to mind, "Carl Manfred."

"I'm a Manfred fan myself." With A twinkle in his eye and another pat, Markus departed with, "It was good to meet you."

"You too," Simon weakly mumbled, and was secretly thankful that security escorted every one out of the room shortly after to let the band finish getting ready. Any longer in the other's presence and he would have surely melted into a puddle, or said something embarrassing. Probably both, if he thought about it.

While gulping in deep breaths of the early October air, crisp from the cold but stale from the stench of cannabis, North shot him a knowing look. "Ready to convert to the metal side?" She questioned smugly.

"Don't even start it," Simon warned once his heart rate returned to something relatively normal. He was fine, he was just out of breath from how stuffy that room has been, he explained to North, but she simply rolled her eyes at that.

"Come on, let's get to the front," she said as she led Simon by the arm through the crowd; it was even more packed since when they first arrived, "Jericho should come on any minute!" The local opening band that had been on when they entered the stadium was starting to close, playing one final song for the cheering, but impatient crowd; they performed well enough, but they weren't the main attraction. Eventually they finished and shuffled off the stage, and some of the crowd dissipated to use the portable bathrooms or buy merch as the stagehands disassembled the set and prepared for Jericho. After about ten or twenty minutes of changing and bringing out tech and instruments, and then doing soundchecks, the lights went out on the stage and the crowd grew deadly silent, until the first riffs of the starting song began and it was drowned with a roar.

Simon could vaguely hear North scream, "I love this song," to his side, which turned out to be true for every song that was performed. This particular one was aggressive right off the bat, the lights flashing in unison with the unforgiving beat. It got his heart racing, and he could feel the drums hammering in his bones, and despite himself, Simon couldn't help but smile and nod his head along. He could appreciate the rhythm of the music, even if he didn't let loose like the others around him, jumping and hammering all of their limbs, or Markus, whose every movement bounced with purpose as he swayed with the mic. Any softness that had been in his voice before, was replaced by a harsh, almost angry, passion as venomous words spewed from his lips. Words of hate, for society, for religion, for those who have wronged him, words sorrow for being scorned by a world who didn't understand him. It was...beautiful, in its own way. It almost reminded Simon of a bastardized form of poetry; strip away all of the angst and gothic aesthetic, and Markus was touching true genius.

That wasn't to say the singer's image detracted from his message; Simon found the harshness and leather alluring. Simon was watching transfixed as each song progressed into the other, eyes glued to how Markus's body swayed and trembled in anticipation, how gloved hands grasped the mic stand, in a way Simon wished those hands gripping him. 

Wait, what?

Simon was always a submissive man, and tended to date dominant men, but never had he found aggression attractive. Then again, aggression was usually associated with negative behaviors, such as punching holes into walls and screaming matches. And while Markus certainly wasn't scared of breaking equipment on set for a cheering crowd, kicking around synthesizers and keyboards, never did Simon feel in danger, like that aggression would be used to harm a person, instead he felt like Markus was a waiting predator, ready to capture and overpower him.

North noted on this, and said at the end of a song, "You're staring at him with 'choke me' eyes."

Was it that obvious? "I am not!" Simon denied.

But then his friend shushed him, for Markus had composed himself to speak to the audience, his voice hoarse from screaming all night, "Thank you for coming tonight. We had fun playing for you all. This last song is from the new album," his pale green eyes then scanned the sea of faces to land on Simon, and bore into his blue ones, "and is for someone who is special, but doesn't quite realize it." Blinking in confusion, Simon wondered what just happened as a much softer tune began to play. Wistfully Markus stared off into the nothingness of the sky, murmuring into the microphone,

_ He shines, in a world full of ugliness, and he matters, when everything is meaningless _

Slowly those ever sad eyes fluttered shut as the song continued, and Simon was entranced by the beautiful contrast from the rest of the concert. But then the chorus came, and he was shaken to his very core as Markus's face twisted in almost pain while delivering the powerful line, over and over,

_ I won't let you fall apart _

Again Markus was rocking in place, bouncing on his feet as he poured his heart into whatever message he was trying to get across. When those eyes shot back open and landed on Simon once more, the latter started to get an idea of what that message was.

_ It's something I have to do _

'Is he...singing this for me?' He wondered. Was this all in his head?

_ I was there too _

'I...I think he is.'

_ Before everything else _

The whole crowd and the rest of the band was singing along at this point, but Markus had his sights on only one soul in that stadium.

_ I was like you _

Cheeks flushing pink, Simon had trouble maintaining the eye contact that had been held throughout the entire song, now that it was coming to an end. It wasn't until the last beat drew out and a bandmate tapped Markus on the shoulder that he averted his gaze, and allowed Simon to take a much needed deep breath. The deafening raucous of the stadium was completely tuned out by his racing inner thoughts; the whole ordeal with the last song still felt surreal and had been oddly intimate. The lights went out on stage, preventing Simon from watching the enigmatic singer file off stage with the rest of his band, and North's sudden grip on his forearm guiding him back to the car prevented him from standing in stupor, lest he get swept up by the current of the crowd while in reverie. Once in the quietness of the parking lot, Simon realized just how shot his hearing was, and his friend's shouted, "That was amazing!" and sounded barely above a whisper.

"Yeah!" was all Simon could awkwardly think to reply with. But then North had a thoughtful expression as she unlocked both doors and started up the car, and eventually he asked, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," North replied, "I just realized something." She didn't further elaborate, so Simon stared at her expectantly until she turned on her CD player, skipping through songs until she found what she was looking for. It was the same song that Markus had just played, his angelic voice sending shivers down his spine.  _ She shined, in a world full of ugliness. _

_She_

"There," North said triumphantly, "he changed the pronouns tonight, I wonder why." It was a rhetorical question, but in his pounding heart, Simon knew the answer.


End file.
